Star Wars: SARC
by SSutherland
Summary: A band of unlikely heroes is brought together to help protect the spaceways of the planet Merridon, but they find that fate and the Force have something much grander in mind for them...
1. Lost Signal

Star Wars is a licensed trademark of Lucasfilm. I do not claim any ownership of this, and this story is intended only to pay homage to George Lucas and the galaxy he created.

Captain Omar and Lieutenant Dreego created by Russell Foubert

Dr Myra Artemis created by Tanya Foubert

Styxar Amoranem created by Joe Bentley

Mishri created by Coral Bentley

* * *

'...5 days out of Merridon Central...' hissed the badly damaged audio recording. '... repeat, this is Ranger 4... call... repeating general distress call...systems failing...navi-beacon lost... cannot..."

Denari Omar jumped slightly as the audio transmission broke for the last time. She always did that, even though she listened to the last message of the Ranger 4 several times a day over the past 6 weeks. Given her many years in space, she new the sounds of a bulkhead popping all too well. Her attention to the recording waned as the door chimed.

"Enter." Omar called out calmly. She tapped the holoscreen of her computer terminal off, and adjusted herself into a more 'officious' looking position in the chair behind her large desk. A young Rodian entered the room, brandishing a data padd. His uniform, like Omar's, was of the Merridon Search and Rescue Corps, or SARC as it was more commonly known, however it was much less kempt.

"Have you seen this?" accused the Rodian. "A criminal!"

"He's hardly a criminal, Dreego." Denari replied calmly. At least she could always count on the over-reactions of her Rodian aide to brush aside the tension and regret she secretly carried. "Besides, I authorized the arrangement with the Magistrate's Office, so I ought to know."

"Do we not have enough troubles without obviously recruiting thugs into SARC? You know what the media is saying about the lack of virtue in our customs division." Dreego crossed his arms as he vented on his boss. For one thing, Captain Omar never seemed to get upset at what others would view as obvious insubordination. For another, she seemed to quietly enjoy watching Dreego seethe. Every now and again he needed a reminder that she was in charge of SARC, not him.

"The media shouldn't bother us, Dreego. We have jobs to do, and we do them well... except for your recruitment efforts, I might point out. I felt I needed to take some initiative on your behalf. We need to launch Ranger 5 ASAP, and you aren't making much progress."

"Don't presume to rebuke me, Captain." Dreego tossed his datapadd onto the desk. "I know my job, and you should know how well I research each candidate."

"Well, that still doesn't explain to me why you can't seem to staff one simple starship!" growled Omar. "How hard can it be to recruit a pilot, recon-ops, tech and one doctor?"

"After Ranger 4? Damned difficult I would say. You know I've had no luck from the local sources."

Both Dreego and Omar seemed to back off. Both did not take mention of the Ranger 4 lightly, and the Rodian's invocation of that crew's memory took the bite out of their argument.

"Fine... You have a pilot now, criminal record or not. Get me the others in days or less. Our coverage of the space lanes is approaching the critical level." ordered Omar.

"Right." Dreego nodded. "I'll get back on it at once."

Denari waited until her assistant had left her office before pulling the flask out of her desk drawer. If the media found out that a full 30 of the spaces lanes in and around Merridon were not being actively patrolled, there would be several types of hell to be paid.

-o-

Dreego stalked down the corridor, passing a humanoid youth with blue skin and unkempt indigo hair. He glared at the youth as he passed, and the young man gave him a startled look back as the rodian continued past towards his desk.

The young man continued on his way, a look of slight annoyance on his face, and a few nasty thoughts going through his head. He reaches the office he'd been directed to report to, and he hits the door chime.

"Enter." barked Captain Omar. The door shwished open quickly, revealing what could only be the new pilot for Ranger 5. It wasn't too often that a blue-skinned humanoid walked into your office, after all.

"Ahh. Mr. Torosken. I've been expecting you. Come in and take a seat." Omar said quickly. "I am expecting your crewmates shortly, but before they get here, perhaps we could go over the details of your assignment to SARC. First of all, are you clear on why you will be joining us for a 2 year term?"

"Yeah, the judge was pretty clear on that point... So when do I get to fly?"

He walks over to the Captain's desk, dropping his duffle in one chair and his ass in the other, landing sideways in the chair so that his legs are draped over the arm and he is seated in a comfortable slouching position.

"We do have limited seating, and there's another 3 beings showing up, so would you mind?" Omar hinted as she nodded at Laarde's duffel bag. "As for flying, I'll discuss that once the others get here. For now though, I need you to sign this, please." Omar passed a datapad across the desk. She noticed the questioning look from Laarde, and decided to elaborate, "This is your acknowledgement of the Court Order, and that if you stray in the slightest, the charges levied against you will be escalated from Merridonian jurisdiction to Imperial jurisdiction, with a sentence of 5-10 years in Kessel."

As the captain speaks, Laarde shrugs and sweeps his duffel off the chair onto the floor beside him... and chokes back a retort when he hears her final statement.

He snatches the datapad from her: "What? That wasn't part of the deal! Noone said anything about Kessel!"

Omar merely shrugged at Laarde's reaction, then offered "Magistrate Vreena got a call after he rendered the decision to commute your sentence pending 2 years service in SARC. Seems there are a few people playing politics far above our poor little heads. My advice is that you sign the order before the 'New Order' changes the details of your bargain any further."

The look on Laarde's face shows plainly what he thinks of politicians and that he does not trust the Captain as far as he can hyperjump without a ship, but resigning himself to the situation, he takes the stylus and signs the document, imprinting his thumbprint on the padd to verify the signature. He hands the padd back to her. "Fine... so, do I get sent to my room now, or are the others showing up soon?" he asked, sarcastically.

-o-

The young human silently skulked up to the rodian's desk, absently hanging onto a small bag over his shoulder. Inquisitive eyes glanced all around the office, taking in all the details before tapping lightly on the desk to gain attention.

He smiles to see the officer's surprise, and then speaks. "Uh, I think I remember hearing you guys had a job open?"

Dreego's eyes nearly popped from his green, leathery skull in surprise.

"By the Great Hunter!" he gasped. He silently admonished himself to be more aware of people sneaking up on him in the future. One never knew when they would become prey, after all.

"Yes...yes. The opening." The rodian quickly checked his datapadd, and his demeanor softened some. "Excellent. Please head down to office 404 just down this corridor. Captain Omar is preparing a briefing for you and your fellow ship-mates."

"Wait!" Long brown braid bouncing on her back, a felinoid being, a Farghul, dashed to the retreating pair. The trendy backpack was already laden with gear, and a sturdy toolkit was carried with some difficulty.

At the first sound of the approaching person, Styxar Anoramen ducked back against the wall, hand groping desperately at the empty blaster holster on his thigh. He glances at the... woman with ill-concealed surprise and slowly relaxes his nervous stance. Eyeing her warily, he falls back into step with Dreego clutching his bag a little tighter.

"You're putting together a crew?" the Farghul asked "You want me there. Let's go, where do I sign up, can we get going?"

Stepping into place beside the young human, the woman composed herself, until only her slight panting and the twitching tail suggested anything other than a quiet, peaceful stroll with long-time companions.

As the three walked towards Omar's office, a young, blonde human female comes up the hallway from the opposite direction, juggling a clipboard, a data-pad and a large mug of something that smells caffeinated. She is wearing a rumpled SARC jumpsuit with an orange badge on one shoulder and as she opens the door you're approaching, a yawn nearly splits her head in two.

Pausing to blink herself into a semblance of wakefulness, she enters the office just ahead of the trio and nods to the woman beside the desk before sliding into a chair next to the blue guy.

Laarde turns as the door opens, and his gaze follows the very attractive (if sleepy) human woman until she sits down... he acknowledges the others, and is a bit startled at the felinoid... hopeful that this creature does not set off his allergy to cats.

Peering cautiously at the inhabitants of the room, Styxar reverses the chair closest to the door and sits down. His gaze lingers briefly upon the only humans in the room, as if trying to measure something. Finally turning full attention to Omar, he slides the small shoulderbag from his shoulder into is lap and waits.

Glancing around the room, rubbing he base of his nose with his fingers, he settles his attention on the Captain again.

"Good. It seems you are all here now, so I will start the briefing." said Captain Omar. She tapped a few controls on her desktop, causing a holoscreen on the wall to flicker to life.

**Narrator:** Ever since the beginning of commercial space flight in the days of **Voice Over: the corrupt and misguided Old Republic**, space-faring beings have been getting into trouble. Simple plasma leaks, power failures or even hull breeches have generated an infinite number of distress calls. ** Graphics of ships with engines blowing or hatches falling off **

**Impressionable Young Lad:** Really? How many?

**Narr:** Current BoSS estimates tell us that every second 2300 to 2400 distress signals are received somewhere in the galaxy, Jimmi.

**Lad:** Wow! How can all these ships possibly be helped?

**Narr:** Its not easy, but the ancient Correlians showed us the way when they launched the first independant Search and Rescue fleet. Funded through local docking fees and ancillary taxes **Voice Over: As well as generous budgets from the Imperial Senate**, these first brave souls sought to protect the space lanes from all manner of threat, not just ship-board emergencies.

**Lad:** What else did they do?

**Narr:** They would mount rescue missions for ships and their crews that had crash-landed on remote worlds, perform customs inspections, and perform maintenance on Hyperspace beacons.

**Lad:** Beacon Maintenance? That doesn't sound like a lot of fun.

**Narr:** Well, how does fighting space pirates sound?

**Lad:** Shooting stars! Space pirates?

** Flashy graphics of mighty SARC ships blowing up atypical looking 'space pirate ships' **

**Narr:** That's right Jimmi, the SARC has local law enforcement privileges and assists **Voice Over: on rare occasions** the **Voice Over: Imperial Navy** to protect the ones you love.

**Jimmi:** What could be better than that?

**Narr:** There's only one way to find out! ** Jimmi's pedestrian style civilian clothing suddenly morphs into an older style SARC uniform **

**Lad:** Wow! SARC, here I come! ** As if by rockets in his boots, Jimmi propels himself off into space **

**Narr:** That's right... Jimmi is making a difference, and so can you! Call your planet's local Search and Rescue Corps Recruitment office today!

** Music: Flourish **

** Black Screen, bold, white text: Approved for distribution, ISB:#3394943939.32 V1 **

Omar deactivated the holoscreen, with a slight sigh. She hated procedure, but the reg's demanded that every new recruit watch the video. Too bad it hadn't been updated in 15 years.

The silence of the room was suddenly broken by laughter, as Laarde couldn't contain himself any longer. "Ha Ha Ha Ha hahahahahahahahahahaha HAaaaaaaa-CHooooooooo!" he sneezes violently, cutting off the laughter.

"Ow." he says, grabbing his nose, with a rather pained look on his face. He reaches into an outer pocket of his duffel and pulls out some tissues, wiping his nose, and anything that got hit in the spray.

"Nobody told me jetpacks came with the job," Styxar comments wryly, smirking a little. "So you're starting a new Rescue corps?" he asks Omar, still smiling.

"No, we are not starting a new rescue corps. We need to crew a newly commissioned ship" Omar replied.

The middle-aged woman stood up from behind her desk and then moved around to its side. Her SARC Uniform seemed to be well worn, and decorated several times over with the commendations of various agencies.

"For those who do not know me, I am Captain Denari Omar. I am the head of Search and Rescue operations here on Merridon, and I've been in this business for a good number of years. I see some of you have met Lieutenant Dreego, my assistant."

The Rodian nodded in the back of the room, although no one seemed to turn to acknowledge him. Omar continued.

"You are here because you have been selected to crew the newest addition to the SARC fleet, Ranger 5. She's a newly commissioned YZ-775 Correllian transport, modified for our purposes, and due to launch in 3 days. But we can get into specifics about the ship later."

Omar clicked a button on her desk and the holo-wall sprang to life once more. Now it depicted a real-time view of the space-lane traffic surrounding Merridon, and its neighbouring star systems. Thousands of ships seemed to be moving back and forth, and in and out of range at one time.

"Merridon is blessed with two things, in my view. First, an abundance of industry for a system in the suburbs of the galaxy, and second, it being somewhat more remote. We aren't exactly in the Outter Rim territories, but we don't have anywhere near the problems the core worlds do."

"Nevertheless, we get an increasing amount of traffic each year, and we come under constant scrutiny from the Imperial Navy every time the Media uncovers some kind of illegal shipment that made it to the streets of Merridon. Fortunately, " Omar paused briefly to look at Laarde, "Most such shipments are intercepted by SARC."

"Before I go on, for the benefit of everyone here, I'd like each of you to introduce yourself to your new teammates. Dr. Artemis here can start."

The blonde, who has nearly dozed off during the video presentation, snaps fully awake when Larrde sneezes on her, nearly spilling her coffee into her lap. Guiltily, she places it cautiously on the desk, then stands up to face everyone, letting out a wide yawn.

"Sorry, I've been up all night stocking and setting up the new med-bay. "

"My name is Dr. Myra Artemis, although Dr. Art will suffice when I'm on duty. If I'm not, Art's fine. My background is largely in pharmaceutical, pathology and xenobiology, and this is my first assignment on a space vessel. I've largely been a 'ground hugger' up until now, although I did complete two years of training on Avan V, a station just out of Coruscant."

"It's going to take some time to fuel and finish stocking Ranger 5, so I'd like to conduct a complete physical for everyone before we leave, just to eliminate the possibility that anyone's carrying anything communicable, or anything that might cause long-term problems. I think at least one of you may require anti-histamine treatments." she says, looking at Laarde. With that, she picks up her coffee mug, and takes her seat again.

As Dr. Art takes her seat, Styxar clears his throat and half-rises out of the chair. He blinks his eyes a few times, before speaking up.

"Uh, my name is Styxar Anoramen. I didn't, uh really know what kind of job was being offered. I guess I still don't. But I guess I um, sort of, well... find ways to get places. I can scout out the best ways to get somewhere, and uh, can fly us there in a pinch if the uh... ship isn't too umm, big. But I guess this Ranger 5 is... well bigger than a Headhunter."

"I think I had a physical a little while ago, but umm, can't really remember when exactly it was. But if it's part of getting moving and well, doing things again then I don't mind. I like to be busy a lot. So uh, the sooner the better I guess. Umm, thanks."

Scratching absently at several days worth of beard stubble, he cautiously returns to his seat and nervously drums his fingers on the back of the chair.

Laarde remains seated "Sorry aboud the sneeze. I seem do be reagding do someping in the room." he says, glancing at the felinoid. He then blows his nose into the tissues and disposes of them in a different duffel pocket.

"Well, before my sinuses fill up again, my name is Laarde Torosken. I'm a good pilot and I know my way around space transports." He says, rubbing his eye. "I'm really only here because I have to be" he continues glaring at the Captain from under his eye-rubbing hand, "but I'm willing to do the work since it will help me to get on with my life."

"As for the physical..." he says, turning to the doctor "I don't think I have any problem with that." He gives her a sly grin, but has to cut it short as he grabs another tissue. "Aaaaa-chooo!"

"Oh!" Quickly, the Farghul climbed to her feet, and bowed gracefully. Only the self-conscious and close-lipped smile and the sinuous dance of her tail kept it from being courtly.

"I am Mishri, and I'm good with my hands. I like to rebuild engines, hyperdrives, some droid-work, that sort of thing. It's fun, really!" she squeaked, with a slight bounce. Looking at everyone in the room, long enough to let them clearly see her golden eyes and to clearly see theirs in turn, she smiled again.

"It looks like you need me, and I'd really like to be a part of your team."

Like silk pouring into the chair she regained her seat, and sat still except for the flickering ears, which seemed to scan the room.

"Thank you." Omar smiled. She felt an inner sense of relief that the introductions had done something to distract the group from the recruitment video. "The positions that need to be filled on Ranger 5, are the following - Pilot, which Mr. Torosken be filling. Navigator and Co-Pilot will be Mr. Anoramen, Chief Engineer will be Mishri, and unless you've not surmised, Dr. Artemis will bill the Chief Medical Officer."

The Captain flicked another display into life on the Holo-Wall.

"This is our pay and benefit structure. If you are in the Operations Stream, such as pilot or security, you earn 500 credits per week, base salary. You also wear blue patches on you Uniform. If you are in Technical Services, you earn 800 per week, base and wear yellow patches. Medical earns 1000 per week, and wears orange, as you can tell from Dr. Artemis." Omar recited.

"We offer several chances to upgrade one's payment level. Firstly, after a period of meritous service, you can expect a raise, to be set by myself and Lt. Dreego. Secondly you may also write a command, medical or technical qualification exam, and have your base pay increased by 300 credits per week for each successful exam you write."

"As for benefits - simply put, you will not pay for any manner of medical care while working for SARC. We cover all non-augmentative procedures and equipment, for you and your immediate family. Of course, we abide by Imperial statues for definitions of immediate family, and non-augmentative procedures."

"Are there any further questions at this time? If not, I'll ask Lt. Dreego to show you to your quarters. Tomorrow morning you will begin a 2-day crash course on SARC procedures."

"Actually, Captain, I do have a few questions." Laarde says "We don't pay for medical treatments, but what do we have to pay for around here? Is room and board part of the deal, or do we have to pay for that ourselves? What about equipment and weapons, since I'm assuming we'll need them for the law enforcement part of the job?"

"Also, since 500cr/week is a bit lean, is there a minimum requirement before we are able to write these tests, or could I take them all now?" he finishes with a cocky grin.

Mishri looked at the blue pilot thoughtfully, attempting to appear merely interested in the fact he was making sounds. '500 a week too slim?' she mused to herself. 'Maybe I'll be writing to Visalan soon, if he's being blackmailed we might be able to muscle in on the action...' After all, no one was allowed to blackmail her team-mates except her kin. Her musings are cut short as Captain Omar speaks again.

"While you are on duty, you may bunk here at Headquarters, and enjoy our hospitality at no charge, likewise you will also have room and board covered while on ship. I can't promise the best rations, but no one has yet been malnourished while serving SARC." Omar responded. "Weapons and equipment will also be supplied while on duty, however, you need to return your equipment when going off duty."

"I should add that you will typically spend 5 standard weeks at a time on duty, and then have 2 full weeks off to yourselves. You can opt to remain on duty however, during those 2 weeks, and bank your time off pending Lt. Dreego's permission."

"As for taking tests, you'll need to pass a 3 month probationary period, before being eligible, andI think you may find them to be somewhat more challenging than you think, Mr. Torosken."

"Anything else?" Denari surveyed the room.

Laarde smirks when the Captain says how "challenging" the tests will be, but doesn't comment.

Dr Artemis speaks up "I have a small request... if once we've all dropped off our things, I could see each of you in med-lab for a few minutes, I can at least get the bloodwork portion of the physical out of the way. It'll take a little time to process."

Turning from Laarde, the Farghul faced Dr. Artemis and smiled. With a perky chirp, she said, "Sure! Maybe you can show me where my quarters will be, and where med-lab is, and where the cafeteria will be, just let me gather my things?' Then she crouched beside her tool kit, opened it, and took some time to ensure that everything was where it was meant to be.

"Ahem," Styxar gets the Captain's attention "Uh, Ranger 5 indicates some other Ranger ships. Are we going to be working with them too?" He pulls out a small datapad and has been taking notes ever since the introductions.

"Well actually," Omar shifted her arms to cross them in front of her chest. "SARC does have a fleet of 14 vessels, of different configurations. Ranger 5 is our newest, and our first YZ-775. The 'number 5' indicates that it is of course the fifth vessel to bear the name in SARC, but consider that Merridon has been colonized for 600 years now, and has had its own SARC for 556 of them."

Laarde's eyes dart back and forth between Captain Omar and Dreego, and he makes a promise to himself to investigate this further... The Captain's answer was just a bit too evasive for his liking, and the pale shade of green that Dreego has turned points to something more ominous.

Dr. Art stifles an enormous yawn. "So how many SARC vessels are on patrol at any given time? How much to their patrol areas overlap? Who can we call to if we find ourselves unable to adequately handle a situation... like say we have to evacuate 400 people off a vessel and only have room for 200? What legal powers do we have to handle situations such as pirates and raiders? Do we tattle on them, can we fight, can we take prisoners for handing over to the proper authorities?"

Sliding back into her seat, Mishri holds the tip of her tail firmly between both hands. 'This is great!' she muses. 'Everything Visalan and Riedya have been trying to assemble since they took over from Marsak, and it's here for the listening! I could get promoted so easily...'

Folding her ears back and scowling a moment, the woman reconsidered. 'But they're the ones who cut me loose, they're why I have to be here anyway. I think I'm going to make them pay for every piece of information I can get.

"Woah there, Dr." Omar smiled. "Most of what your asking are operational questions that your advisor droid or captain can answer for you. As I mentioned Lt. Dreego will be training you for two days before you take flight in Ranger 5, and afterwards will be serving as your Captain."

"Yes... I am sure we will function, reasonably well together." Dreego chimed in. "If everyone is ready, I would like to offer you a tour of our facilities here at Headquarters."

Dreego straightened himself up to look more imposing and posed near the door from Omar's office.

Laarde climbs out of the chair, and grabbing his duffel, goes over to stand near Dreego... he still seems to be suffering from some reaction... he's rubbing his eyes and sniffling...

"Let's go, boss!"

When the Doctor comes up to them, he'll say: "Can I take you up on those anti-histamine treatments? I'm dyin' here..." stiffles a sneeze

Art smirks and turns to Dreego. "May I take Mister Laarde up to the medical bay and get him something before he dehydrates?"

"Oh hey, how about we all go, so Dr. Art can collect our blood-work?" chirped Mishri, as she joined the group. "Then we can have the tour and finish up at the cafeteria with a coffee - by then you should be feeling better, right?" Briefly she patted Laarde's arm, then turned to Styxar.

Dreego performs the rodian equivalent of rolling his eyes, before sighing "Very well... let us go to Ranger 5. From there you can have your blood work done, and you can store your gear."

The group files out into the hallway, following Dreego towards the docking bay.


	2. Early Action

The turbolift whisked open into SARC's massive hangar bay. The Ranger 5 stood out clearly at the other end of the bay, glistening in its new-ness. Technicians moved all over its hull and beneath the vessel, securing systems, and loading supplies. Closer to the Turbolift, droids performed routine maintenance on a number of hover-vehicles and power-suits for heavy work in Zero or Heavy G.

Nearby another SARC ship was approaching a landing zone. It was a large, modified Action V transport with clearly marked medical symbols identifying the ship as a non-combatant. The vessel was stenciled with the Crest of Merridon, the SARC logo, and the name 'Lifeline'. As the warning sirens died down, technicians rushed to the new arrival to secure umbilical power, and data feeds.

"As you can see, SARC has a great deal of resources at our disposal." Dreego hollered above the noise. "Unfortunately, not everyone in the Senate sees the need for each planet to support its own SARC. We need, unfortunately, to become a little more politically aware in the future, or we could see our services 'nationalized' by the Empire. This way now... we can go aboard Ranger V now."

Mishri peeked over the shoulders of every tech possible, to see how they were doing. Occasionally her tail lashed, sometimes it rose slightly, sinuously, but for the most part she observed impartially. Soon enough it'd be her ship, and she could fix all the ridiculous mistakes by herself.

Laarde stifles a few more sneezes as he looks around the docking bay, impressed by what he sees.

Absent-mindedly scratching his arm where Mishri touched him, he looks over the Ranger V, and asks Dreego "Isn't that ship a bid big for just the five of us?" stifles another sneeze

Styxar's eyes flash around the docking bay, taking in details as a drowning man gasps at oxygen. Hazel coloured eyes squint in the light, instinctively taking an inventory of all people, droids and equipment present.

He absently carries the toolkit in one hand, somehow looking lost and incredibly, dangerously curious at the same time. Joining Laarde in examining Ranger 5, his thin lips purse in a frustrated frown. "I hope you're uh, a better learned pilot than I am Laarde. Um, because I have some flight experience, but anything that... size I only flew in well... sims"

Never ceasing in his scans of the bay, Styxar runs his hand along a nearby ship as the group passes by.

Dreego seemed to scoff at Laarde's remarks about the crew size of the ship. "Hrmph. Did you think we would be heading in to space alone, just the five of us? Ranger V can operate with as little 2 persons at the controls. However, we will have 3 droids at our service, to assist in operations. At any time, we need to be prepared to deliver supplies, relief workers, or even to evacuate crippled ships. Simulations show that this ship could carry nearly 300 people in an emergency."

Doing so would violate safety protocols, Lieutenant Dreego. Chimed a mechanical voice. From the base of the ship a red-metallic protocol droid appeared and approached the group.

"This is TC-19, operations assistance droid." Dreego motioned with his hand. "Unlike the Power Droid and the R2 unit we have aboard, this droid speaks."

Frequently, I also interject wisdom into my words. Do not take them at face value. warned TC-19. I am to be your reference resource for all local customs laws, procedures and Imperial guidelines. I am also responsible for collecting performance data on all members of the crew, including Lt. Dreego.

"Why don't you go collect data on EG-4." sneered Dreego. His contempt for mechanicals was obvious.

Indeed. At least EG-4 is being useful. With that, TC-19 spun around and made for the aft end of the ship where a boxy-power droid seemed to be interfaced into one of engine #2's intercoolers.

"In some law-enforcement situations, we can also use Ranger V to carry 3 squads of SARC officers into action." beamed Dreego. "As you can see, we've removed the proton torpedo launchers and replaced it with a tractor beam. The dorsal turret has also been replaced, but with an ion cannon. In short, this is one very versatile ship. We're lucky the Empire has let us keep it. Come this way, I'll show you to your cabins."

Art is trailing along behind, not looking at anything except her clipboard, her eyes occasionally flicking up to make 'course corrections' as you cross the bay. Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to be following the "safe paths" clearly marked in yellow tape on the bay floor. She's in the middle of scribbling something when she trips over a mousedroid, sending her clipboard, datapadd, pen and (fortunately empty) coffee mug flying, and lands gracelessly behind Mishiri on her stomach.

As Art trips and sends her paraphanelia flying, Styxar's ducks aside to avoid the flying objects. One hand darts out and snatches the datapad out of midair, allowing the other objects to land on the hangar deck. The mug might get damaged from the impact, but the datapadd is the more likely prospect for damage.

Whirling abruptly, Mishri's hand slid down to her right thigh momentarily. Seeing Dr. Artemis' predicament, however, she promptly is pushed aside so Laarde can help our intrepid doctor, and decides to instead retrieve the coffee mug.

Laarde offers his hand to Art, helping her to her feet. "Are you okay?"

Once Art is back on her feet, Styxar hands her the datapadd gravely, commenting softly "It's best to uh, step over those Doctor." He flashes her a brief smile and a subtle wink before following Dreego up the hatch into Ranger V.

Red faced, Art thanks Laarde, then Styx... giving the first a smile and the second a raised eyebrow. "Stars I hate mornings!" From the state of the doctor, it might not actually be morning, but to Art it definitely is.

She picks up whatever hasn't already been retrieved and smiles wanly at Mirishi, "If I get injured I suck it up and wait for port. But doctors never get injured, right? No worries."

"Oh stars, Dr. Artemis, that was a nasty spill. Are you okay? Umm... what do you do when you need a doctor, can your medical bay take care of you if we can't?" A frown barely shows through the felinoid's fur, but Mishri's tail moves restlessly enough to reveal her discomfort

"...impressive armor as well." Dreego suddenly realizes that everyone has stopped paying attention to his guided tour of the ship, but doesn't know why. "The vessel has four entry ramps, one at each air lock. We'll use this one... come along."

Laarde follows Styxar up the ramp, resuming their previous conversation. "I don't think I'll have much of a problem flying this thing. I'd be more worried if it was heavily modified, like the other transports I've flown. Since this thing still has that 'new ship' smell, it should still be at factory specs. I'm still a bit concerned about the size... and the addition of the droids hasn't changed that, but with a little practice, everything should be fine." He smiles.

Laarde does look suitably impressed with the ship though, since it definitely is bigger and better than anything he's been in so far. He drops his duffel in the starboard side bunk-room closest to the bridge, claiming that room as his own, and makes sure to sit himself down in the pilot's chair when they tour the bridge. "Hmm... I'll have to work my ass-groove into this thing, but it's not bad."

For the rest of the tour he's somewhat distracted though, thinking about when he's going to get the chance to fly this puppy. He'll sit still for the bloodwork, and he reminds the doc of the antihystimene treatments... he's not gonna get stuck on this ship with a cat without treating his allergies. "Hey Doc, are these shots going to take care of this permanently, or am I going to have to keep taking them?

Mishri continued to follow Dreego, mostly attentively. Her attention was continually drawn to the unblemished bulkhead, untouched access panels, and insidious 'new ship' smell. She'd never had her hands on anything as new as this! At ever-increasing intervals she snorted to get the scent out of her nose, finally sneezing abruptly with a flash of very sharp white teeth.

"Excuse me!" she apologized. "It looks like I'm going to need something from the medical bay too, at least until I can air things out." Ears drooped and tail coiled around one leg, the Farghul almost looked as dejected as a wet cat.

As with the hangar bay, Styxar's eyes are constantly scanning the surroundings, noting every detail. He moves more at ease with himself now that there is something happening and he has a better idea of things. While still not entirely certain what he has signed on for, at least he'll be doing things.

He's most interested in the bridge and associated galley, and while Laarde familiarizes his posterior with the pilot's chair, Styx makes sure he knows the rest of the bridge layout and controls. Finally locating the linked fire control, he smiles briefly to himself and makes a quick note on his own datapadd.

The doctor speaks up since she figures this is the end of the tour. "Maybe while you boys familiarize yourself with the nerf-hide and big guns, I'll take Mishiri down to medical... it's down at the back... I mean aft end of the ship, so from there it's stumbling distance to Engineering."

Graciously retrieving her toolkit from Styxar, Mishri smiled, as broadly as possible without showing any hint of teeth, at Dr. Artemis. "That sounds like a good idea, it means I can check out my turf without getting too much fur in Laarde's space."

Walking down the corridor with the doctor, Mishri glanced at the spotless panels and not-fully-settled deck plates almost perturbedly. She wondered how anyone would make a ship without some interesting secrets, then considered how difficult it would be to add some of her own.

-o-

While checking out the pilot's station, familiarizing himself with the location of the main engine throttle, attitude thrusters, and hyperdrive controls, Laarde distractedly asks Dreego:

"So, Lieutenant... when do you think we'll be able to take her out?" he asks.

"Oh, probably not for 2 days. We need to get this ship in the air, but there's no chance we'd do that until you got some basic training." nodded Dreego. Suddenly, the rodian's comlink buzzed like mad. He quickly picked up.

"Yes?"

Lieutenant, you are hereby instructed to power up the Ranger V. You and your crew need to lift off immediately. squaked the comlink in a voice similar to Captain Omar.

"You must be joking. Honestly, you humans and your propensity for humor..."

Either that ship is lifting off in 5 minutes, or you are out of a job, Dreego. There's a freighter drifting towards the sun, and the Ranger is the only ship that can get there in time. Move it! I will send further information to you en-route. Omar out.

"Eachee doo'saboa!" Dreego cursed under his breath in his native tongue. "Torosken, sound general alert, power up the engines. So much for training."

"Yes sir!"

Keying the ship to alert status, Laarde cringes at the volume of the alarm klaxons. He gets to his work though, starting the engine startup sequence.

As the alarm klaxon sounded throughout the ship, Styxar quickly moved into his role as co-pilot/navigator. As Laarde eagerly began prepping the engines for takeoff, Styx raised the boarding ramp and started the repulsorlifts. A flick of several switches began the power-up sequence of the nav-computer, and then Styxar looked at his new captain, Lt. Dreego.

"Sir, obviously some of the umm... nuances of SARC regulations are unknown to us. But wasn't the idea behind well, um recruiting us to bring in some people with experience? It's better for some people to well, learn on the fly."

"Power systems and engine output are reading in the green, Captain." Laarde reported "We're ready to go!"

-o-

"Wait!" "Wait!" "Hold the ship!"

The dark haired Sullustian trundled across the hangar bay waving his short arms frantically and building up speed. "Blasted! Danged…" A bulky helmet slipped momentarily over his eyes but blindness did not seem to be an impediment to his forward motion. He banged painfully off of a barrel. "…can't issue anything the right size…" He careened off a slow moving technician. "Out of my way, beanpole!" A shake of his head finally settled the helmet back to it's proper place. He swore vehemently at what he saw.

The gangway was rising quickly. The little alien could hear the warning klaxons and the rising hum of an engine coming to life. "Going to fry my poor little beige butt off…" "Remind me again why I'm getting paid less than some cushion loving scientist?"

With an overstuffed rucksack and a rifle longer than he was bouncing awkwardly across his back he practically disappeared beneath his equipment. Hanging belt pouches and clanking canteens. If you were taking bets (and some of the technicians clearly were) you would probably like the odds against the Sullustian making his flight. But with a surprising burst of speed he threw himself onto the platform and lay there huffing and puffing trying to catch his breath.

Like a turtle placed on its back, it took him a few tries to roll to his feet. He huffed and hummed and brushed himself off looking around with some embarrassment to see who might have noticed his predicament.

-o-

With its newest passenger freshly aboard, Laarde lifts the Ranger V off from the deck of the SARC hangar. A powerful thrumming begins as the ship's full systems come to life and the vessel spins around to face the open air of Merridon. With what seems like a quick kick, the vessel shoots out of the hangar bay and quickly makes for orbit.

Aboard the Ranger V, Dreego nods his green head in satisfaction. "Well done. That might have been the quickest departure I have ever seen."

The rodian then examined the ship's status display. All systems appeared to be functioning perfectly. Mishri had obviously worked on Correllian starships before, and had gained an appreciation of their thirsty but hardworking engines.

'Donovan Squib reporting for duty' squawked the ship's comm.

"By the moons of Rodia... how did he get aboard?" Dreego's demeanour suddenly became more familiar - sour and harsh. He angrily smacked the intercom. "Dr. Artemis... please report to airlock 2, and greet Mr. Squib."

Then, turning to the pilots, "Helm, steady as she goes. Styxar, please plot a course to the crippled ship. grumble... Squib... grumble "

Laarde smiles at Dreego's compliment, but concentrates on his work... weaving the ship in and out of the departure traffic in order to make a more speedy orbit. Quietly, he says to himself... "I love these Corelian ships."

"Dammit, who needs all these buttons?" Styxar quietly mutters as he pokes at the controls at his station. After accidentally cancelling the nav-computer's calculations, Styx realizes that he's completely forgotten the whereabouts of the other ship. He quickly keys the comlink, "Styxar to engineering. Can you boost the sensor power? It's not responding very well right now."

-o-

"Who? Me? Oh, yes, I'm Engineering. Sure, Styxar, whatever you need!" chirped the Farghul.

Mishri happily bounced over to the station after grabbing her toolkit. One never knew when something would need fixing right where one was, after all - although on a new ship, that might not be true. She'd never worked on anything that wasn't previously owned and subsequently 'borrowed,' or scavenged from somewhere else. This ship was constructed strictly 'by the books...' ((How dull, maybe I can do some improvements while I'm here?))

((Sensors...)) Well, there they are, exactly where they are in the manuals. ((How novel.))

Tail weaving sinuously, ears swiveling to catch all the sounds of the ship, the felinoid set to work

Mishri found a little more power for the sensors, but frowned. The star was putting out enough radiation to melt the delicate components of the sensors, as long as they were still directly facing it. What in the heavens was Styxar up to?

Cousin Rashlass's words came to her, the story of how he'd once upon a time been engineer on a ship until he said, "Captain, what the hell do you think you're doing flying that close to a star? Are you drunk or something?" At the next spaceport, 'everyone' went off on leave - only the others flew off as soon as Rashlass was out of eyesight of the ship. ((Not something I'm interested in, still gotta be out of the way for another few weeks...))

"Styxar, the sensors just can't handle the radiation out there, I'm so sorry. We've got to get closer to the target ship to compensate." A slight growl issued from the tall lean woman, and her tail lashed in anxiety. Would the excuse be accepted.

-o-

Seeing that Styxar is having some trouble, Laarde reaches over to toggle some options on the sensors."Here, try this configuration, I've seen this work in the... damn! That should have worked!" he cursed.

Glaring at the factory spec controls, he says "Sorry Styxar, you were right, there's a power loss with the sensors... we're going to need those online soon. I'll see what I can do about the navcomputer though... I've learned a few tricks..."

Accessing the navcomputer controls, he runs a few backup scripts in order to pull up the latest computation backup. (He's working on the premise that many military navcomputers do constant backups as the computations are made, just in case there are power fluctuations due to damage.

"Captain, if I might make a suggestion," Larrde began "if we can establish comm-contact with the shieldship, and get their exact coordinates, we might be able to make this jump more precise..."

Dreego nods and Laarde sets about contacting the Shieldship, which immediately responds.

Laarde's sensor panel starts blinking and he glances over... "I've got a reading on the Shieldship and it's course! Feeding the data into the navcomputer... at current speed, ETA in 30 minutes... damn... they'll be roasted bantha by then! Increasing to Attack speed... "

Laarde increases the throttle, but the ship doesn't respond... "Mishra?... Mishri? I need more power to the engines if we're going to get there on time... can you coax a bit more? Try diverting power from all non-essential systems." He scrolls through the ship's available functions, and activates the viewscreen polarization, darkening the transparasteel viewports as they get closer to the star.

-o-

"Mishra?" Ears flattened right back, Mishri dashed over to the droids working on Engine 2 and looked past them at what they were doing. "Oh no, just what we need..."

"Lard, I'm sorry," she replies, purposefully mispronouncing his name "I can give you a little bit more boost, but when they installed the engines back at the spaceport they forgot to join the power couplings. We've got one good engine and one that needs all I can give it. Use what you got, I'll try to keep us together." Adding a whimper and a growl for good effect, she sighed. This ship was almost unshipworthy! Never trust factory specs...

Opening her kit, she started doing what she could to help the droids

-o-

Screwing up his mouth at the sudden thought he's had, he turns to Dreego: "Lieutenant, what are the rules on making micro-jumps this far into the system? We could be there in seconds instead of crawling along like this!"

Dreego hovers over Laarde's shoulder and turns quickly to watch Styxar's difficulties with the astro-computer.

"You're asking me to authorize a micro-jump, when you two cannot even pinpoint the location of the Blixo? You've gone mad!" Dreego practically screeches.

Inwardly cringing at getting Mishri's name wrong, and probably upsetting her (given her immediate mispronunciation of his name), he keys the comm again, saying "Mishri, what about that power droid we saw outside the ship... if he was still there when we took off... "

Laarde closes the comm and accesses the navcomputer controls...

"Sir, I've got an exact location of the shieldship, and that close into the system there is bound to be very little traffic. Like it or not, I've learned some tricks like this from my previous contacts. I know it can work... "

Laarde pauses a moment, thinking about something. He then turns and gives Dreego his full attention.

"If I might be so bold sir, if we pull this off, you're going to look very good in your Captain's eyes... as it stands now, with the engines in the condition they're in, we're not going to arrive until that ship is molten slag... and as the Captain said... your job in on the line. We all want to save this ship, and this is the ONLY way we're going to arrive on time!"

Shaking slightly at the emotion he's put behind this, Laarde stares at Dreego's incomprehensible alien features, waiting for a sign that he got through to him.

-o-

Meanwhile, Art was hoofing it down to Airlock 2, a hypodermic in one hand an a small vial in the other. She pockets the vial and the (untipped) hypo extends her now-free hands to help up the new crew member. "Mister Squib?" I'm Dr. Artemis... If you'd just come with me we can stash your things and strap down in the cockpit." She hit the doorpanel on one of the (un-used) bunks along the wall and helped toss in Donovan's bag and rifle.

Squib flinched with the stowing of his rucksack, "Careful there!" His hands fluttered nervously for a moment until he jammed them deep into pockets. He eyed the placement of his gear critically. "It's not going to roll around is it?" He took a moment to assess the Doctor, his gaze lingering briefly on the medical insignia.

Art yawns and smirks at Donovan. "Not unless the ship rolls over and we find out your bunk isn't bolted in."

Blunt teeth chewed on lower lip. "You don't always wander around with a vial and a syringe do you?"

He added in a slightly conspiratorial tone, "That's kind of creepy." He then waited to be lead to the cockpit.

"You're right, it is. But our pilot's going to need a histamine shot before he gets within 20 meters of our engineer again. If you'll follow me, we'll strap in and call up what we can on the mission we've started on..." she said, leading Squib towards the cockpit.

A last dubious look at his equipment and he fell into step behind the Doctor. "The geniuses planetside didn't see fit to give me a briefing on the particulars." he allowed. "Officers. I'm surprised that they manage to grunt and clean themselves. "Speaking of which..." his eyes fashioned on Dreego as they arrived. The cockpit was more cramped then he had imagined. The three current residents were deep in some sort of calculation. "It's awfully quiet in here," he stage whispered to Artemis. "It's never a good sign when things are this quiet."

-o-

"You have a point..." Dreego stated plainly as the two new arrivals came onto the bridge. It was hard to see, but his eyes were swimming with the implications of pulling this micro-jump off... or not pulling off. He absent-mindedly stroked his snout. "Alright... if you're wrong about this Laarde, I guess I won't have time to ship you off to Kessel, as we'll all get fried."

Dreego gave a twitch of his snout and paused long enough to snicker while putting his hand on Laarde's shoulder. He was obviously convinced that Laarde's previous 'experience' would be the only way the Blixo stood any chance.

"Start the calculations, Laarde, Styxar and I will help you." With that, Dreego began to punch in data into the navicomputer. He quickly looks up from the console as Art and Squib enter the cockpit. "Quickly - get yourselves strapped in. We are going to try a micro-jump in system."

"Well, I think fried is better than Kessel, but I definitely can't argue with you there..." Laarde mumbled as he turned to the astrogation computer and prayed to the forces of fate. He begins laying in a course to arrive very close to the Blixo, paying close attention to the shieldship's projected course data. He makes several adjustments based on Styxar and Dreego's input, and then stands by for both the returned course and the order to execute.

Art straps in (there should be a chair opposite her for Donovan) in the back and starts querying the computer for anything about the situation. Her goal is to determine how many people we're going after, the radiation they are likely to have been exposed to (starting to plan out treatments).

Donovan stood gaping at Dreego for a moment. And then he started to laugh. "Okay… I'll admit you had me there for a moment" he wiped tears from his eyes with the backward swipe of one hand. "Micro-jump. Put one over on the new guy. That's pretty good." He paused waiting for the others to join in the joke.

Without looking up, Styxar comments wryly, "This ship is brand new, it would be a shame if we were to mar the bulkheads with a life-sized imprint when we jump. Strapping in is much advised."

"You're not joking..." Donovan sputtered. He looked at Artemis strapping in. "I don't think he's joking..." The dawning realization sent the Sullustian into a spasm of activity. "Belt... where's the other snap for this... can't believe..." He struggled into the safety harness and sat glowering at no one in particular.

Conversationally across the way to Art he said "You know... I heard about another ship tried this once. Ended up being turned completely inside out. Inside out. The ship and everyone in it. Funny, when the recruiter promised I'd get to see things I'd never seen before I didn't know he was talking about my lungs."

Art snickers and shrugs back at Donovan. "Relax. If this doesn't work, we'll be dead so fast we'll hardly notice."

The navicomputer blinked its green confirmation indicator. It was now or never. Dreego checked his harness one last time with a nervous tug.

"Engage!" he splurted. Laarde pulled on the levers to activate the hyperdrive and with a terrific lurch, Ranger V shot off into hyperspace and almost instantly reappeared in realspace. This sudden dimensional shifting proved to be too much strain for the compensator units as the entire crew were thrown forward! A horrific sounding bang and dent on the cockpit door to the galley accompanied a shower of sparks from the navicomputer! The ship's power seemed to fade in and out momentarily, and the whole keel of the new Corellian ship seemed to shudder with the tremendous strain.

The white light of hyperspace left Donovan blinking as he is thrown forward into the harness. He manages a half smile to Artemis before he is thrown back in the chair violently to the squeal of tortured metal. Bolts pop. Metal peels away from the hull plating. The smile fades replaced almost with an apologetic shrug. And Donovan's seat smashes forward tearing from its moorings. It crashes into the Auxiliary panel with a shower of sparks and crunch of bone. There was the start of what might have been a scream but it ends when chair meets unforgiving metal.

Swearing profusely, Styxar hits the release on his seat restraint and staggers to his feet. Shaking his head to clear the ringing, he stumbles over to a nearby station, ignoring both the smoking ruins of his original station and his own injuries.

He coughs roughly as he hits the controls, before calling out across the cockpit, "Trying to bring the Blixo up on sensors now." He takes a moment to look around, assessing the status of the other crew members.

Art unstraps quickly and skids across the deck to the wreckage that was Donovan's chair. Checking to make sure that there isn't anything actually impaling him (which would require a tricky removal) she'll check for a pulse and breathing before starting to release the straps so that she can move him and/or stop the spurting blood. "If a free pair of hands can grab me a couple towels from the locker just outside the door, that'd be GREAT!" She announces to the cockpit.

Dreego seems to react slowly... perhaps not believing that the ship is still intact.

"Sta..Status?" he calls out, hoping someone will answer him. Then he hears Art call out for towels, and notices for the first time, the condition Squib is in. Quickly he release his bindings and tries to make for the galley. "Laarde... get us stabilised, and give me a damage report."

The door to the Galley does not open as he approaches. The Rodian pounds on the manual controls, and the doors seem to shudder, but still do not open. There is a strange, droid-shaped dent in the doors, that seems to be preventing them from opening.

"Olloo-greska!" Dreego swears. "There is a medkit in the galley, but we can't get to it!"

Laarde, having prepared himself for the expected inertial backlash (but not for how this damnedable ship responded!), relaxes from his braced position, and slaps the polarization controls for the viewscreen... better not to be blinded after surviving that!

Coughing on the smoke coming from the co-pilot's station, he reaches down under his station and rips a canister of fire-retardent foam from it's bracket, liberally applying the foam to Styxar's station (and Styxar, if necessary).

Without turning around, he says: "Is everyone alright?"

His eyes sweep over his controls, trying to take in all the information it is flashing at him. He yells over the claxons: "Hull integrety down to 80, but the shields have automatically engaged and are holding! Power is fluctuating, and I think there's a fire in Engineering."

Switching on the comm, he yells into it "Mishri? Mishri, are you alright!"

Saying to Dreego: "Sir, we may need someone to help out in Engineering... we only have 15 minutes left on the shields, so Styxar and I are going to have to find that ship fast... Styxar, anything on the sensors? Where are we in relation to the freighter and the shieldship?"

A whisper from the underside of the chair. Rasping, hoarse, pain-laced "Doc... hey doc..."

One hand waved limply from beneath the chair beckoning.

Art stares in disbelief at the droid shaped dent and concentrates on extricating Donovan as best she can. If this uniform has a jacket and an undershirt like the Star Trek ones then my jacket is what's doing blood-soaking right now. "I'm right here, Squib... you should be happy, the droid missed you! And I can't see your lungs, either. So your positive mental attitude saves the day again." She's mostly chattering to keep him focused so that we don't loose him from shock.

"Good thing the staps held huh..." A weak chuckle lapsed into a shuddering cough. Donovan swallowed with difficulty and winced. "I'd hate to think what might have happened if not for these straps... feeling pretty secure right now... yes indeedy..." One arm was twisted and wrong. A jarring angle. He didn't look at it. He bled mostly from his head. "Having problems breathing... ribs... I think..."

The doctor calls to Laarde over her shoulder "Maybe you can get one of the astromechs to help put the fire out in engineering. We may need engineering to get us out of the cockpit!" She turns back to Donovan "Just breathe nice and shallow, won't hurt so much. You don't have any holes in anything other than your head, so I'd say you are perfectly repairable. I'm just going to loosen your shoulder-strap now, and it's probably going to hurt in your left arm, alright?" She wads up her jacket and presses it into his good hand, guides that up to his gashed forehead. "Can you hold that there for me? You know what else would be really great? Tell me those two goons who are flying are doing... give me a play by play. The blue one is Larrde and the human one is Styx." Again, she's mostly trying to distract him so he doesn't go into shock.

"Well... one of them is busy putting out fires... ahhhh... and the other is... can't see..." A sudden thought occurs to him. "Say... if you undo these straps... won't it... dump me onto my arm and chest?" He pressed the jacket to the wound in his head. "Maybe if you spun the chair..."

Squib, I already have spun the chair. You haven't moved your head yet."

Donovan blinked twice to clear his vision. He chuckled dryly, "So you have..." When the straps came loose he sucked in a surprised breath. "Arm definitely hurts..." he tried to sit up and peer passed the Doctor.

"Hey... ahhh... Laarde was it? We aren't floating into the Sun are we?"

Laarde makes a snorting sound and replies "No... we are not flying in to the sun." He then turns back to his job. "I have the location of the shieldship, at sensor range... estimated flight time of 5 minutes at Cruising speed. I don't have anything on the Blixo yes... Styxar? Anything yet?"

"Excuse me," Styxar says hurriedly as he hits a few controls on the panel Squib was just extracted from. He swears again and moves onto Aux2 workstation, wiping blood off his hands onto his pants as he moves. He heaves an exasperated sigh of relief and calls out, " I think I've got the Blixo coming up on our sensors, stand by. We're going to need our engines working though. Where is the... oh right. Engineering. Styxar to Engineering, status."

"Great!" Laarde exclaims "Send that sensor data to my station... then, can you see if you can help the Lieutenant get that door open? I think that since Mishri hasn't responded, she's either too busy, or she's down... so one of us is going to have to get down there... how are your repair skills, by the way?"

Opening up a comm channel to the shieldship, he says: "Shield One, this is Ranger Five.  
We are here to assist the Blixo, but we are having trouble with our sensors this close to the star. Can you provide us with navigational coordinates on the freighter's location? Over."

Ranger V, this is Shield 1 calling... what are you doing in this area? What port are you out of? Over crackled the Comm system.

Laarde quickly responded "Shield 1, we are a SARC vessel sent to assist the Blixo... You can authenticate our identity by contacting the SARC HQ on Merridon, but if you need to do so, please do it quickly. I don't think the Blixo will be able to survive much longer. Over."

Meanwhile Dreego has made progress with the manual release for the bulkhead doors. No sooner does he get the doors open, than the smashed form of TC-19 falls through from the galley. A few sparks shoot out of its head, and it becomes obvious the droid requires extensive repairs.

"Quickly... Laarde get us to the Blixo, Syxar... help him." Dreego ordered. "Doctor? Join me in Engineering once you get Squib stabilized."

The rodian quickly reaches into a storage cabinet in the galley and produces a first aid kit. He hears Laarde respond with "Yes sir!" and he tosses the kit to Artemis. "Everyone get moving!"

With that, Dreego quickly rushes to the back of the ship.

Turning back to his pilot controls, he says: "Okay Styxar, let's do this thing, we've only got about 10 minutes to find the Blixo and secure it..."

"I'll pick up here Laarde, my station is fried. Transmitting co-ordinates to the Blixo now. I'll do what I can." He swings into the seat in front of the panel and sets to work.

"Okay, got it... thanks." Laarde brings up the sensor data, locking in the position of the Blixo, and keeping tabs on Shield 1's location as well. He slowly throttles up the engines, laying in a course to intercept the crippled freighter.

Opening up a comm channel: "Freighter Blixo. This is SARC vessel Ranger Five. We are en-route to assist you. Can you read us?"

Styxar keys in a few commands and brings a fuzzy picture onto the pilot's viewscreen. The ship is spinning along its axis, and displays some obvious signs of damage. "I estimate the Blixo is about 2 minutes away, but we're going to have to tractor her to bring that spin under control. Hope the tractor beam still has power, there's at least 6 people alive over there.

"Styxar to Doctor. I know you're busy, but expect another six plus injured from the Blixo in the next five minutes or so."

In responce to Styxar's update, Laarde says "Right, I confirm that..." Switching on the intercom to Engineering: "Lieutenant, ETA in 2 minutes. We're going to need power to the tractor beam to stabilize the Blixo."

Laarde punches in a course that brings them around, approaching the Blixo from sunward... Laarde is attempting to offer some extra shielding from the star's radiation (I'm hoping that the magnetic properties of the shields will create a "shadow" for the Blixo to hide in), while at the same time, allowing him to lessen the polarization of the viewscreen, so that with the decreased sensor capability, he can perform the necessary maneuvers by visual reckoning.

Art snatches the med-kit as it lands and quickly applies it to Squib, slapping a bright blue gel-strip across his gahsed forehead and stopping any extraneous bleeding (at least three more wound points... so I've healed 4 on you in total).

"Ready Squib? I'm going to help you stand up... your legs are fine, your ribs aren't in any danger of poking into anything as long as you don't do anything stupid. Dreego wants someone at the airlock, probably to flip a switch or something. That's going to be you. Now your arm here... well, just keep it tucked in and as soon as I put out Mishiri, I'll check on it. Try not to put too much load on it if it hurts, okay?"

And she'll walk him as far as the junction to make sure he's not going to collapse, point at the airlock controls where he came in and then RUN down to engineering, pausing long enough to grab a med-kit before skidding into Engineering...

Warning... 13 minutes until lethal radiation exposure. Please move the vessel to minimum safe distance. Chimed the ship's computer voice.

"Greeeat... I was wondering when the voice o' doom was gonna speak up." Laarde says "Styxar, I can handle the docking from here. Can you man the tractor beam and stop that thing from spinning?... it's makin' me ill just lookin' at it." Working the sensor controls, Laarde focuses them on the Blixo, muttering aloud, "How are they keeping their shields up? They've been out here longer than 15 minutes..."

After initiating the scan, Laarde cuts power to the engines, reducing to Docking speed. Looking at the results of the scan... he comments aloud "They have as much shield time as we do... and they've been out here longer... how are they doing that?" He focused the scan on their shields, attempting to see if they are just stronger, or if they are doing something to prolong the effectiveness.

"Whoever designed these controls must have been on spice... this is awful," Styxar muttered to himself as he worked the unfamiliar controls. A light on the panel began flashing suddenly, and Styxar slapped the button just beneath the light in irritation.

To his surprise, the tractor beam power came online. Ok... I meant to do that... "Tractor beam online, bringing her to bear on the Blixo." Under the tractor beam's power, the wildly spinning ship slowly stabilized along its axis. Styxar co-ordinated the tractor beam movements with Laarde's piloting, and before long the two ships were nestled up next to one another.

"Styxar to... umm the person at the airlock. We're in docking position, engage the airlock grapples so we can get those people out. Call if you need any uh... other help."

Laarde uses the maneuvering thrusters to ease the ship up to the Blixo, lining up the airlocks. "Hey Styxar, do you think we have a strong enough lock on that ship to tow it with us?" He switches on the intercom to Engineering: "Lieutenant, how are the engines holding up?  
Do we have enough power to tow the Blixo?"

Laarde contacts the Shieldship once again: "Shield 1, this is SARC Vessel, Ranger 5. We have located the Blixo and are currently assisting the crew. We are going to require assistance soon though, as our shields won't last much longer than another 10 minutes. Please advise if you are able to intercept or wait for us."

The comm system returns little more than a frustrated sort of static. There might be a reply to Laarde' message but solar radiation seems to be scrambling it a great deal.

-o-

At the airlock, Squib considered saying a great many things in reply to the comm message from the bridge, but in a rare show of discipline confined himself to a single curse and a scowl. "Will do, whoever you are." he replied and punched the disconnect with a snarl. Could it be that SARC was no better than the Empire?

Donovan always felt safest when he was alone. There was something about 'others' that you had to be wary about. He leaned his head against the wall and enjoyed the cool press of metal. The thrum of the engine was a comforting sound. He sighed and looked at his left arm. He probed at it gingerly. It felt like a clean break but he'd probably need both. No telling what might happen next.

He gritted his teeth. Left wrist in right hand and PULL and TWIST. He gagged and lurched forward. Swallowed down rising bile and nodded grimly. He wiggled fingers experimentally. They hurt. The whole arm throbbed but it would do until he could get it splinted properly.

He turned his attention to the airlock controls and chewed on his lower lip while he watched the controls run through their sequence. "Docking clamps...locked. Equalizing pressure." A few precious seconds ticked away. "And we're good to go." he announced over the comm. He checked his watch and smiled. "Just like at the Academy..." his expression soured at the memory.

-o-

The stinging stench of burnt electronics and scorched fuel assaulted Dreego's olfactory senses as he forced his way into the Engineering hold. His trip through the center of the ship was uneventful, so he made good time. Even so he paused reactively to take in the scope of the damage.

Regaining his composure he immediately sought out and found the wounded Farghul sprawled well away from the engine which had caught fire. She was coated in a layer of fire-retardant foam.

Dreego quickly checked for vital signs, and was pleased with Mishri's condition - in that she had one and was not dead. A lone R2 unit was the only thing moving in the compartment, and he was hurriedly trying to keep the power trimmed to the 2 remaining engines.

Laarde's request for tractor beam power suddenly awoke Dreego to action. He smacked open the intercom, "Acknowledged... Power to the tractor beam shouldn't be a problem, but if I read these displays properly we might be close to losing another engine. Mishri is alive, but wounded - Doctor. get down here right away!"

The doctor, having been only a short distance behind Dreego, comes into engineering just then, and moves over to Mishri, administering a hyposhot to her upper arm. Mishiri slowly comes too as the doctor is wiping fire-retardant foam off her face and nose and eyes. "Mishiri? How many fingers am I holding up? I just gave you a shot to get you up... I think other than being covered in this foam, which is NOT going to do wonders for your coat, you're alright."

"Now let me help you sit up... Styx and Larrde are yelling about power to the tractor beam... I think Dreego and the astromech are working on that engine."

As Mishri's eyes cleared and she sat up, she realize the doctor looks rather... strange. Sort of ... green, in fact. Her face and lips have taken on a strange, emerald green hue!

Moving automatically, dripping clots of fire retardant foam, Mishri staggered to her feet. She'd never felt like this before. Nothing smelled right, nothing was the right colour - well, almost everything was, but if the doctor was emerald green then obviously nothing was looking right - but they needed the engines working and that meant they needed her. Glancing around once, the Farghul noted that the droid that had softened its impact by using her body as a bumper was still in rough shape, then moved to decide what she needed to do most. After their tails were out of the fire, she'd thank the doctor. A green Artemis wasn't something Mishri was willing to contemplate yet

Dreego sees that Mishri is back on her feet, and calls out to her, "The fuel lines to Engine 2 are gone... Can we hook up that Power Droid that's on its side over there to feed this engine?"

Blinking, Mishri finally processes his words and turns to the droid. It must be useful for something... Shaking another clot of foam off her tail, Mishri examined the power droid, frowning. But then she nodded.

"Dreego. Help. It'll take a lot of work. It won't last long. We need it." Gathering her toolkit from where it had ended up, she selected one of the instruments for herself and one for her commanding officer. During an emergency, rank didn't matter as much as the expertise and need.

The intercom squawks and Laarde's voice filters through: "Lieutenant, how are the engines holding up? Do we have enough power to tow the Blixo?"

"Soon. Few minutes. But not much power. Ten seconds or so before EG-4 is drained. It's all we have..." Mishri sighed. Things were moving well, but it was nowhere near enough. Once the droid was used up, she'd have to get right back to trying to mend that leak. Hopefully, next time she was doing the job, the ship wouldn't lurch like a beast alive.

Dreego continued to check the power-regulator coupling EG-4 to Engine #2. It was going to take time to continue making this hook up. The Rodian listens to Mishri's analysis, and nods in agreement.

"We'll be lucky to have enough power to get ourselves out of this mess." Dreego called out to the open intercom. "Unless... wait... If we can get the Blixo's engines to fire, while we're coupled to it, it might allow both our ships to make it to safety!"

A plan started to form in his mind, but hit a stumbling block. He and Mishri had a lot of work to do in order to get Ranger V ready for the trip home - she couldn't be spared. Then, inspiration hit him.

"Doctor, get a spare toolkit to Squib - he had some technical training at the Academy. Go over to the Blixo with him and have him look at their engines. If there's any chance both our ships can make it home..."

"Listen everyone... I want the boarding party to be comprised of the Doctor, Squib and Styxar. Laarde will stay in the cockpit here, Mishri and I will try to get these engines back in order, in case Ranger V is the only ship we can use to get out of here. Dr, see to their wounded, and get them onto this ship, Squib - Artemis is bringing you a tool kit, get a look at their engine damage, and see if you can make their main thrusters fire, and Styxar... make your way to the Blixo's helm and see if there's any manoeuvring control up there."

The Rodian stopped... the thrill… the exhilaration of the 'Hunt' was upon him. This nirvana-like state could take over his people from time to time in periods of intense danger and action. Fortunately, Dreego had long ago learned to master that instinctual part of himself, in order to better work alongside the other sentient beings of the galaxy. A quick breath was all that was need to maintain composure.

"Good Luck. We have 5 minutes."


	3. Rescue of the Blixo

On the bridge, Laarde glanced at his readouts. 

Target: Blixo Shield Status: 15  
Hull Integrity: 65

Estimated time to shield collapse: 12 minutes.  
Estimated time to lethal exposure: 11.5 minutes.

He tried to make a direct scan of their energy systems, but the radiation bouncing off the Blixo's shields was making it very difficult to get any concrete information. Examining the readings of the shields themselves, he made an educated guess that by diverting power from every possible system, they may have boosted their shield output beyond normal maximums.

Flipping on the intercom again, he sent a message back to Dreego in Engineering. "Excellent plan, sir, I was just thinking along the same lines! As a contingency, if we can't get the Blixo's maneuvering thrusters operational, I think I might have an idea brewing..."

-o-

At the airlock, Squib chewed on his lower lip. "Docking clamps...locked. Equalizing pressure." A few precious seconds ticked away. "And we're good to go." he announced over the comm. Checking his watch he smiled. "Just like at the Academy..." his expression soured at the memory.  
After listening to Dreego's message, he stabbed the send button. "Any idea what we're going to find on the other side of this hatch? What's the radiation like over there? Any chance we've got a bunch of hostiles just waiting for us to give them access to the ship?"

Dreego's answer sounded over the intercom, saying the only thing he really could about so many questions... "Just be prepared..." he paused briefly, "for anything."

Styxar jogged up to the airlock, still thinking of the shattered form of TC-19 he stepped over near the cockpit, and spotted the Sullustan standing by the airlock controls. "You must be Squib. I'm Styxar." He scratched his head in irritation, pulling a small piece of scorched circuitry out of his hair.  
He looked Squib over thoughtfully, taking careful note of the Sullustan's injuries. "I'm not a doctor, but I sure hope you'll be up to fixing those engines. I uh...well let's just say I hope that thing has a decent layout of pilot controls."

Squib nodded to Styxar and smiled grimly, "Lets hope they're in better shape than those of the Ranger." He drew his blaster and held it gingerly in his right hand. "Be ready for anything..." he grumbled. "How does one get ready for lethal doses of radiation? Maybe we should just flop about on the floor now." His hand hovered over the airlock cycling controls waiting for the Doctor's arrival. "Do we know how many are alive on the Blixo?"

"I read six lifeforms aboard," Styxar replied "but with the radiation we're dealing with it could be masking more. Good news though is that their shields are holding at least as well as ours are, so we shouldn't be walking into any extra radiation."

The status lights on the airlock control panel suddenly pulsed to different shades of green and yellow. The automated sensors in the docking collar detected low amounts of radiation in the Blixo green, and although they have detected the presence of an atmosphere, it was not terribly rich with life-sustaining oxygen yellow. Nevertheless, the computer eventually granted permission for the doors to be opened green.

Art came skidding around the corner, slightly off balance because of the toolkit she was lugging in one hand. She also had a black satchel over one shoulder and was carrying a hand-held scanner, but no blaster. The most noticeable thing about her, though was that she was bright green. As much as the pilot was a lovely shade of blue, the doctor's skin had acquired an emerald green hue. Her hair was still the same, and it didn't look like there's anything other than some blood and fire retardant foam on her uniform, but she was the colour of engine coolant... except she wasn't wet from anything.  
She looked down at Squib's oddly positioned arm and frowns. "You moved that, didn't you. You tugged on it, after I told you to keep it tucked in, didn't you?" She didn't sound angry, just very tired.

"I'm not too familiar with these ratings, do you think we should get some breathers?" Styxar asked as he turns around. He blinked in astonishment when he saw Artemis's skin, looked like he was about to say something, and then thought better of it. "They've got some radiation and the air isn't the nicest," he continued, "but there's six people alive over there."

Donovan reached for the tool kit with a grunt of pain. "Lost a fight with a can of paint did we?"

"I think that anti-fire foam stuff stains. Thank the maker it's just my hands though." She said, not realizing that her face was bright green as well, and she smacked Donovan's hand to get him to let go of the toolkit. "I'll get you where you're going, thank you. If they're still flying, there's someone in engineering that'll need me too. We can probably handle the ten minutes that we have without breathers. If we're there longer than ten minutes... well, we'll have bigger problems than the air, right? So, let's get in there..."

Donovan struggled for a moment against Art's grip on the toolbox strap and then huffed a "Fine you fix the engines!" and let it go. He stomped off in search of the Blixo's engineering department grumbling about people in general, and green people specifically.

"I can't even fix a toaster!" Artemis grumbled, checking the scanner screen and following Donovan into the Blixo.

-o-

In the Ranger V's engineering section, Dreego stood up from the fuel-line bypass hatch he was working at. His part of preparing the EG-4 droid was complete. Mishri had a mere few moments to go as she configured the final power coupling.

-o-

Making their way into the Blixo, the trio reached the main corridor junction, and lying face down in the middle of the intersection was a trandoshan dressed in coveralls. The doctor hurried over and crouched down to check him out with her medscanner. "He's alive. I think he collapsed from dehydration." She slapped a patch on the side of his neck and injected him with something from her bag. The large lizard man stirred slightly.

Styxar nodded and said "The two of you head to engineering and see what you can find there. I'm heading up to the bridge."

Jobs assigned, Styxar turned up the main corridor and made his way forwards. He could already see the door to the bridge some distance ahead of him, and continued towards it.

-o-

Back on the Ranger V, Dreego walked over to the com-panel and calls the cockpit. "Laarde... what's the status of our shields, and what about this plan you are thinking up"  
The pilot's voice came in over the speaker, crackling slightly "We have about 8 minutes left on the shields, sir. " There was a moment's pause.

"My idea? Well, if our engines aren't firing at the same strength as the Blixo's, our docking collar may not hold up to the sheering stress. However, if we can get the Blixo's main engines to fire, and use our tractor beam to... ", his voice trailed off

-o-

Despite everything chaotic happening around him on the bridge, everything grew strangely quiet to Laarde. The scene around him dissolved and was replaced by a ship's door at the end of a corridor. His hand was reaching out towards a control panel next to the door... no... not his hand... a human's hand... Styxar's hand!... the door whisked open to a blinding flash of light.

Laarde came back to the noise and scene of the Ranger V's bridge, and suddenly bolted for the door.

-o-

On the other end of the comlink, Dreego heard the sounds of a chair creaking and boots pounding on the deckplates - receeding into the distance... "Laarde!" he shouted into the comm.

After a few seconds of no response, he turned to Mishri. "I'm going to go find out what's going on. See if you can engage a computer lock with the Blixo. I think Laarde had a plan to use the Blixo as some kind of booster for our ship. If I can get to the Blixo's bridge, we'll try to set up a slave-circuit so we can control their ship from ours"  
With that, the Rodian sped out of the Ranger's engine room, pulling his comlink from his belt.

-o-

Laarde ran from the cockpit, hearing Dreego shout his name through the comm as he left. Snagging a medpack and fire extinguisher off the wall as he passed through the galley, he continued on. He wasn't sure why he was doing this. A daydream about what could be happening over there popping into his mind shouldn't be a reason to run off, but he could FEEL this was different... urgent. Skidding along the deckplates through the intersection, he grabbed the edge of the bulkhead and propelled himself around the corner, sprinting down the corridor. He ran through the open airlock into the dimly lit corridor of the Blixo, grabbing a breath mask off the rack as he ran by.

Tucking the fire extinguisher under his arm, he struggled to get the breath mask over his face, stopping suddenly when he saw the trandoshan pulling himself up from the deck to lean against the bulkhead. Avoiding the being, he took up the extinguisher in his hand and charged up the corridor towards the bridge, emitting a muffled yell through the breath mask: "Styxar!"

His fingers just touching the activation panel for the bridge door, Styxar snapped his head around to look at Laarde as he ran up. The door whisks open, exposing the two to the full power of the sun's photosphere, but with Styxar turned away, it was only Laarde who bore the consequences. He cried out in pain and threw his arm up over his eyes, stumbling back against the bulkhead. The fire extinguisher and medkit clattered to the floor.

Styxar pawed at the controls, causing the door to slide shut again and stepped forward to take ahold of Laarde's arm. "Laarde what the hell! What happened!"

"My eyes! Dammit... it burns!" Laarde replied, his arm still covering his eyes.

Styxar picked up his comlink and spoke into it. "Lieutenant. I'm outside the Blixo's bridge, and Laarde is with me. It seems that the Blixo's viewport isn't screened like ours is... and Laarde just got the full view of the sun."

"Laarde?" Dreego's voice crackled over the comlink. "What is he doing...? Nevermind, I'll be right there. Tell him to stay put and continue with your search."

"You heard him, Laarde." Styxar said after turning off his comlink "Just stay put. He'll come get you. I have to get onto the bridge and key in our command codes." He patted Laarde on the shoulder and turned around. Covering his eyes with his arm, as Laarde had, he keyed the door again and it slid open, revealing the full fury of the sun once again. He could still see the light around the edges of his coat sleeve, but he stumbled forwards towards the main panel. Not encountering any obstacles, he felt his way across the many controls, finding that they conformed to the standard. Keeping his arm between his eyes and the sun, he risked a peek and found the control he wanted. Flipping the switch, the main viewport dimmed, bringing light levels down to normal.

The controls were still hot from the sunlight, but he locked in the command codes and picked up his comlink again. "Mishri. I've got the computer locked in, so you should be able to tie in from over there." Turning back to the door, he saw Dreego helping Laarde to his feet. He also spotted a human woman lying on the deck beside the door. He had completely missed her on his way in. "Sir. We've got another one here.", he said, making his way over to her.

Dreego sighed. "Head back to engineering to help the other two. I think they're going to need it. I'll handle these two." He stepped past Styxar, lifting the woman in his arms and then walking back to Laarde. "Laarde, take a hold of my arm, and let's go." Laarde felt around in the air until he located the rodian's arm and then followed when Dreego started walking.

-o-

Dreego stumbled through the airlock of the Ranger V, with Laarde grasping onto his shoulder and the unconcious woman in his arms. He carefully placed the woman on the floor, against the wall. Next he moved lightning quick to a small med-scanner at his belt. "Here... stand here." Dreego ordered Laarde. The Rodian quickly passed the scanner over the Wroonian's eyes. "Curious. Your species might have some kind of sub-corneal nictating membrane. I think your eyesight will return in time. I'd ask you why you left your post on the bridge... but we haven't time now"  
Dreego then placed Laarde's hand on some kind of metal lever. "This is the manual control for sealing the airlock. Once you hear me give the word, pull. Don't think about it, just pull, or we'll all become lethally irradiated. When Styxar comes by, tell him to join me in the cockpit at once."

"Yes sir." Laarde said, as he leaned back against the bulkhead...

After hearing Dreego's footsteps recede, he said quietly "How am I going to explain it when I can't even explain it to myself"

-o-

Mishri turned from her work and activated the comlink. "Mish.. Mishri to Ranger Five. Airlocks are activated, they'll help but we still need the tractor beam on. EG-4 is installed, I'm seeing what I can do about this fuel leak. We'll have definitely a few seconds, might be able to squeak us some more."

Momentarily, the woman wondered what Visalan would think of her, flame retardant firmly bound to the fur of her lower legs, most of her tail, and all through her hair. The Farghul's lips pulled back in a snarl, teeth flashing white in the bluish light from the sparking console. ((Visalan is why I'm here in the first place. 'Oops, I'm sorry Mish, we already sold that shipment, just didn't get around to telling you before you found that buyer... Umm, maybe you should get out of town? Tee hee...' Tee hee my fangs, you dog!)) Glaring at the hose nearly connected, still dribbling fuel past the clamp, she returned to the task she'd been doing before the ship jumped.

-o-

Back at the airlock, Styxar, Artemis and Donovan emerged from inside the Blixo. Styxar carried a human woman in his arms. Artemis and Squib carried a medical stretcher between them with a twi'lek on it, and a human crew member as well as a trandoshan carried another stretcher with a human on it, and the trandoshan had another crew member thrown over his shoulder.

Laarde reached up and grabbed the comlink from its receptacle "Lieutenant, Styxar and the others are back on board, and that accounts for everyone... should I close us up?"

-o-

"Yes - Seal the ship at once." Dreego responded over the comm. He slid into the pilot's seat and made a few, quick course corrections, and notes that Laarde has sealed Ranger V.

Laarde's voice came in over the intercom again. "Sir... about that idea I have... if we get the Blixo's main engines to fire, we can use the tractor beam to hitch a ride with it. And using our engines and maneuvering thrusters, as well as the tractor beam, we can control the direction in which we are going... as long as we're pointed in the right general direction to start with, and we don't need to make a lot of sharp turns, it should work."

Alarmed at how awkwardly the two docked vessels seemed to maneuver, the Rodian is relieved to hear Laarde's plan on the intercom. "Excellent idea. I think we are more or less prepared to give this a shot." Dreego called out again. He suddenly reacted to a vibrant red-light on the Blixo's slaved computer circuit. It indicates that life support has been compromised due to a shield failure. With a dry swallow he regarded the Ranger's countdown to a similar fate - 90 seconds.  
"Okay... Dr. Secure all wounded in Medical, that includes Mr. Torosken. Styxar, report to the cockpit, I need your help. Squib, get to the Tractor beam turret, and use it to secure the Blixo in place. Mishri... on my command, activate the Blixo's engines - full burn. Once the Blixo has used her fuel, activate our engines on full thrust. Use Eg-4, use whatever you can. Let's move people"

-o-

Laarde stood up and changed places with the trandoshan with their help, and Styxar handed off his charge to the large alien, sprinting off towards the bridge. The doctor lead the others off towards medlab.

Styxar ran into the cockpit, almost skidding into a toppled chair. Recognizing the twisted mass that was the co-pilot's station and seat, he turned and got himself settled into one of the auxiliary stations.  
"Ready sir."

"All set, I'll do what I can!" Mishri's voice joined Styxar's from over the comlink

-o-

As the group entered medlab, Laarde was saying to Squib "You won't be firing at starfighters, you're just going to be aiming the beam where we want the Blixo to go... it's much simpler. If the Lieutenant uses my idea, then you'll have to keep a constant lock on the Blixo, using the tractor in attract mode to have us pull along with the Blixo, and then in repulse mode to nudge it in the direction we want to go... "

Laarde helps Dovovan to put the woman up on a scanbed, and then leans up against it.  
"Doc, you here? Where do you want me?

"Where you are is fine," Artemis responded "if you move you'll trip over someone. I'll be over just as soon as I stabilize this guy."

"Okay got it... I hope." There is a brief touch on Laarde's leg that might have been sympathetic or was just as likely to have been a casual brushing in passing and then the sound of footsteps echoing away in a mad dash.

-o-

Squib slid easily into the gunner chair and eyed the straps with a degree of suspicion. "Didn't help me last time..." he muttered and decided maneuverability was more important. They didn't design these things with people his size in mind. He had to stretch almost overbalancing to reach some of the controls. He ran through his pre-check and waited for further instructions fingers flitting nervously over firing controls.

He imagined that he could feel the radiation growing stronger against his skin. A prickling tingling distraction. He took a few precious seconds to study the layout of the controls. He fumbled with a few switches toggling them to assure himself that he knew their purpose. The combat computer refused to let him do anything too too stupid for which he was gratetful.He maneuvered the targeting sensors over the Blixo and depressed the fire sequencer.  
The tractor beam hummed to life and spilled a deep cobalt blue beam over the main hull of the target ship. It played there for a moment while he adjusted the controls and then the green light flashed. Target aquired.

"Okay... she's in our grip." informed Squib over the intercom. "Got a pretty solid lock so long as you don't do anything stupid up there"

-o-

From Laardes perspective, there was a lot of scuffling and occasional beeping going in, as the doctor didn't appear to be talkative right now. There was a couple of clicks and suddenly her voice sounded out right next to him. "If you can stay standing alright where you are, Laarde, that'd be great. This lady's in pretty bad shape... I haven't forgotten about you, just well... you're conscious and she's about to die on me. You okay with that or are you about to pass out on me?"

"Other than not being able to see, I'm just fine, Doc..." Laarde responded "if you need me to hold something for you, I'd be happy to help..." he was mostly just waiting for the ship to explode, something he'd probably not want to actually see, so his condition didn't bother him that much... except for the fact that it constantly felt like he had grit in his eyes.

"Everyone - brace yourselves - I'm firing the Blixo's engines!" Came Dreego's voice over the intercom, and Laarde indeed braced himself.

-o-

The computer link to the Blixo's computer was functioning perfectly. As soon as Dreego activated them, the frieghter's engines came to life with a powerful kick. The airlocks strained with the sudden acceleration, but the Ranger's tractorbeam held the ships firmly in place.  
Then... something Dreego did not expect occurred. The Ranger's shields began to fail. He quickly searched for the reason why, and it became apparent. The Blixo was grappled to the hull of the Ranger at 2 airlocks - that physical connectivity produced a weakness in the shields - a weakness that turned their few precious minutes of safety into mere seconds!

Lamenting the fact that he had not listened to Laarde's suggestion more fully, Dreego called out on the intercom again: "All engines to full power now! I need everything you've got Mishri"  
Sparks flew out of the damaged panels in the cockpit as the ship lurched like a famished Strike-Bird after a Vendar Mole. The inertial compensators were barely able to keep pace.  
"WARNING: HULL BREACH IN PROGRESS AT AIRLOCK 1" Sang out the computer voice.  
Dreego clung tightly to the pilot's chair. The thrust had bought a few more seconds on the shields, but they were still not as far away as they needed to be.  
"WARNING: HULL BREACH IN PROGRESS AT AIRLOCK 2" The computer voice again.  
Dreego knew this was it. EG-4's power would now be exhausted, that meant engine 2 would go down, as would their acceleration. That would basically be that. 2 crews lost in space because Dreego had not paid attention to a seasoned spacer.  
But engine 2 did not go offline. In fact, Ranger V continued to propel itself away from the solar corona at speeds that would put most starfighters to shame.  
The shield status read 4. Then 5. Then 8.  
They had cleared the danger-zone. Somehow, Mishri had found away to bypass the damaged fuel lines, and feed engine 2 not only with EG-4's power, but with the fuel from engines 1 and 3. The welcoming blue-green of Merridon had grown quite large in the main viewport before Dreego gave to order to shut down the engines. They would be coasting back on fumes, but they would be getting back.  
"We've done it... we're clear! Cut power before we 'literally' drop in on Headquarters." Cooed an obviously relieved and happy Dreego.


End file.
